Disenchanted
by foxy crimefighta
Summary: I hate the ending, myself, but it started with an alright scene. —Yuffie and Axel, for Shelby, Felia, and Kailey.


·············· **DISENCHANTED **

* * *

_and when the lights all went out  
we watched our lives on the screen._

_... roll tape._

It began, some might say, with the ever-typical recipe for love: faith, trust, and a hint of pixie dust. Others would tell you a slightly more accurate opinion: the story starts with a warm summer's day and a casual brush against the shoulder, whispers words of a frenzied apology and a startled intake of warm breath.

Neither of these introductions are entirely truthful, but they do have their respective legitimacies, no matter how small or insignificant. However, the certain extent that legitimacy extends is entirely up to you, dear reader, based on the sole fact that not a single living person knows the _exact_ occurings. You may choose to believe what you wish, and no one is to say that you are right, or wrong.

The real, genuine facts are scattered throughout the world - perhaps several - and have been retold by so many people so many times, with so many different recountings, so many different faces and so many different scenes, that it should be considered very difficult, if not impossible, to trace these retellings to their core - where the _true_ story lies.

I'm sure you've heard them: if not once, if not twice, than many; for what child has never heard a fairytale, and what adult was not once considered as a child? These fairytales might be regarded as entirely distinct to themselves as a whole; called 'classics', I believe - but if you take away the faces of the characters, the names, the settings, and all other shallow aspects to reveal what is really significant, no matter which tale you are unraveling, you will always find the same exact thing at its core.

I have taken the immense time, myself, to retrace the steps taken to reach this core, the core to all fairytales. It may or may not be entirely accurate in its reiteration as a whole, for not even myself, as I mentioned before, knows the _exact _occurings. However, the core is still present, always present, and always what sincerely matters.

This core, dear reader, is how the story truly begins.

-

_Axel._

A student in the crowded hallway roughly pushes her way past countless others, sometimes hurriedly apologizing without care, sometimes hissing a quick _move it, assholes_, but mostly without saying anything at all.

_Axel, you had better not have left without me._

One particularly obese nameless face steps in front of her, demanding a pass of some sort. She makes a frustrated noise, points at something out the giant windows that dominate the walls, and as he turns, darts past him, feet occasionally acting as a springboard to project herself faster.

Faintly, she thinks she might've heard a distantly familiar voice call for her, a concerned cry of "_Yuffie!" _and she almost turns but thinks better of it.

_Where are you? _

The girl catches a glimpse of bright fire-engine red among the bland brown and blond, and skids to a stop, accidentally stumbling into another unimportant cameo in her life. The red was only a streamer, not the trademark hair she thought she recognized. She briefly mutters apologies, thoroughly ignoring the person's _watch it, _and continues her search for the bearer of the telltale hair.

He's probably her best friend, and probably her worst enemy; it's a twisted logic that really doesn't make sense, even to her. There are only five things this girl is certain of when it comes to Axel.

The first, is that she met him in fifth grade, which her awesome math skills tell her was five years ago. She knows he set fire to the science lab she was stationed at, and she smacked him for singeing her favorite scarf.

The second, is that she's never been away from him for more than a week after that. When her father dragged her (_no_, she thinks snidely, it was _forcefully escorted,_ wasn't it?) to the southern islands for a vacation cruise for seven days, she'd called him every day.

Third, is that right now it's been two weeks, one day, 8 hours, 26 minutes, 47 (_48, 49, 50_) seconds since she'd last heard a _word_ from him.

Fourth, is that this has never happened before and is entirely unusual.

And finally, and perhaps the most important, for it is the _cause _of facts two, three, and four: despite the fact that she stopped believing in magic since the day her mother died, Axel has some kind of magic spell on her. She is absolutely certain of this, for why else would she cling to him like no other, when most times she doesn't even _like_ the obnoxious pyro freak? He leaves her entirely enchanted, and regardless of her valiant efforts to pull away, she always finds herself returning to his side.

These recent two weeks (_1 day, 8 hours, 27 minutes, 2, 3, 4 seconds_) were, _are_ the aftermath of their most intolerable fight yet. They're only _sophomores, _sixteen years _young_, and she's already caught him drinking beer and _driving_ .. _twice_. (She remembers him showing up at her doorstep, sloshing a beer in each hand, drunkenly grinning and slurring her name, holding out a hand in offering before toppling over and knocking them both to the ground before she promptly burst into tears and kicked him in the balls.) This, she thinks, is pretty much inexcusable. While she's definitely not a prude or a goody-two-shoes herself, she knows for a fact Axel hasn't even got his license yet, let alone become anywhere near the legal age for drinking, and it's a pure miracle he hadn't died.

She doesn't think she could bear it if he died. It's part of the magic spell; her curse.

Since that day, she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him, and it was slowly driving her insane. She'd told herself _no_, she'd avoided him like the plague, she'd done everything she could to quit him. She knew he wasn't any good, and she reasoned with herself: _why do I even put up with him?_ _He's annoying, and stupid, and smelly, and, and, and .. and .._

Nothing worked, and once again, she finds herself trapped in his essence. She's got to find him, tell him she's sorry, make him promise. Because if she can change him, if she can make him better, then maybe being attached to him, attracted to him .. won't be so bad.

_Axel, if you've left, I'm going to kill you. _

It's strange, she thinks, that after all these years of being best friends, she still hasn't a clue where he lives. If she can't catch up to him, she'll have to wait until tomorrow to see him, and that is unacceptable (as is calling him up on the phone - it _needs_ to be face-to-face, and it needs to be _now_).

She races down the stairs to the front entrance of the school, catapults over several small children, and a slow smile spreads on her face as she sprints toward a low-slung branch of the biggest tree in sight. There, dangling from a few feet off the ground, is a black boot, and if she looks up a bit further she'll notice vivid, scarlet hair and a lazy, white smirk.

-

In junior year, Yuffie tries dating. It .. doesn't work out so well. After spending six years glued to such an eccentric person as Axel, nobody is interesting enough, nobody is attractive enough, nobody is clever enough ..

_"But .. why .. ?"_

_"Because boys like you are so overrated."_

_"Yuffie --"_

_"No."_

_"It's not .. I mean, you can't be serious."_

_"Trust me. It's over."_

Again. And again. And yet again.

Every time, she returns to Axel's side with a small pout, and he always chuckles at her antics and slings an arm over her shoulder. She knows no one else could ever match up when she gets _that feeling_ in the pit of her stomach at his touch.

-

Complaining of her virginal woes during lunch hour, Yuffie takes her shoes off and wiggles her toes in the damp grass while resting her head on Axel's shoulder.

"I mean, I don't know, is it me? It can't be me, I'm interesting enough! Aren't I? Axel? You think I'm interesting, don't you? Maybe I'm .. _too_ interesting? Is there a such thing? Axel?"

He lets out a long sigh, and says exasperatedly, "Yes, Yuffie, that's why you can't get a date. You are too interesting. Be more boring and unsocial, lord."

Leaning against the tree they are seated under for shade, Axel's partner-in-crime, Roxas, takes off his sunglasses and peers confusedly at them. This is a mild shock to everyone present except Axel, because Roxas' face is a blank canvas, cold and conservative at best. "You mean you guys _.. aren't _dating?" he asks coolly and slowly.

Yuffie, breaking free of her temporary speechlessness from the prospect of hearing Roxas talk for the first time, stares indignantly as Axel positively _dies_ of laughter, body scrunched up in a ball and shaking with suppressed cackles. "No!" she begins, but is further interrupted when Axel's short round of hysterics calm down and he takes her face in his hands, and presses his lips firmly against hers.

His mouth tastes of an unique combination of cigarette ash and peppermint leaves, and it isn't entirely unpleasant to her. The two flavors are contradicting, and it almost tastes similar to a musty flavor, like how you might think an attic tastes like. She's not quite sure what to think right now, her thought process mostly consists of phrases such as _aksdfvajhfghjskhgf_ or _what the hell, Axel_ or _ooh, do that thing with your tongue again, that was cool_.

-

She completely gives up dating anyone else after that. It's obvious no one intrigues her for very long at all, not nearly enough to keep her interest satisfied. She figures if she can just be with Axel forever, that part of her will always be content.

-

It's senior graduation day, and Yuffie's mind is racing. Her head is full of dreams of everlasting summers and freedom and Axel and _ice cream_ but mostly freedom, because she's always had summer and Axel and ice cream but never freedom. When asked what she wanted her career to be, she can't think of anything - it's a whole _summer_ away before she goes to college! - so she proudly replies, "A _ninja._"

It should speak a lot for Yuffie's character that no one was beyond mildly taken aback. In retrospect, they'd probably seen it coming.

When the train of long announcements and presentation of diplomas is finally over, and the principal smiles at them, the graduating class of '07, and wishes them good luck in their future, she chucks her hat in the air and screams with delight when Axel kisses her again; she's begun to crave the taste, even if it's not _that_ great.

"Hey, Yuff," he whispers casually in her ear, and she can hardly hear his smooth and sultry voice above the roar of the graduates.

"Yeah?" she about yells.

"Wanna marry me?"

**BOOM. **A hundred fireworks go off onstage, setting the podium and the principal's hat with scorching hot flames. Axel smiles lazily and laughs softly in her ear - this is obviously his doing - and the slight breeze tickles.

Yuffie kicks him.

-

"You may now kiss the bride!"

And Axel pretty much has his way with her right then and there. Yuffie feels a bit sorry for the few friends invited; their poor retinas probably burnt out.

It was a small wedding, in a small garden near the church. Yuffie's always wanted a wedding on the beach, but she doesn't say anything because she thinks she might be happy with this.

-

"Axel, where've you _been_?"

She stomps her foot and glares the best she can at the swaggering figure in the doorway, frying pan in one hand and a fist in the other.

He smiiiiirks, and stumbles his way right up next to her, before grabbing her face and positively _forcing_ his mouth over hers, pushing his tongue in and sloppily moving, slow and slick and relentless.

She tries to tell him _no_, she tries to pull away but in his drunken state he only pulls her closer, yanking on her inky black hair to keep her where he wants her.

She takes the frying pan and whacks him across the face, accidentally hitting herself in the process - it leaves an angry red mark on his emerald gem eye, and a trickle of blood trails down the path below his black teardrop tattoo that she's never known him without. Axel freezes, then growls, suddenly fierce, and smacks her so hard she falls over onto the kitchen tile floor, and she stares up in shock and hurt, too stunned to get up again.

Apparently, he's never quit drinking after that night two years ago. Yuffie stifles a whimper, not because of the pain shooting across her face, but because he _promised._

-

_will it matter after I'm gone?  
because you never learned a goddamned thing._

-

She's almost used to it, the drinking. It's grown on her, so much that it doesn't even send her shivering with disgust at the sheer obscene amount of empty jade green bottles scattering their apartment floor. Now, it's just mild revulsion.

She's almost used to the drinking, but one thing she will never be prepared for is the abuse. Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't, but afterwards he'll always apologize and kiss her again with that unique taste, and although it's more cigarette than mint now, it's still the same, and it's still her curse, so she forgives him.

Sometimes, though, she'll be able to stay away long enough to contemplate what in hell she is doing still married to him, _him_, of all people, and the first excuse she comes up with is a lie: _I love him_.

She's never loved him.

Somewhere in the depths of her heart, a frayed end of her undying devotion to him unravels, leaving a small, loose, fragile thread.

-

The fatigue and weariness is catching up to her, she thinks. Only twenty-three and she feels like an old woman, maybe one-_hundred-_and-twenty-three, and she's always tired and always dizzy; dreading and desiring to come home all at once.

By now, it's mostly dread.

Yuffie remembers when, only a few short years ago, she could pull off being happy. Sometimes, she thought she _was_ happy, but that was a clever facade even to herself, for who _enjoys_ being chained to a pyromaniac lunatic? She's only kidding herself, she's always wanted to break free.

_This isn't the magic of fairytales, _she cries to herself. Maybe it was, before .. at the beginning, at the start of everything, maybe it was.

When the young-but-old girl-but-woman gets home, she steps over the multitude of empty beer bottles, ignores the blare of the television coming from the tiny living room, quietly slips into the bedroom, and cries herself to sleep.

The pillows still smell like peppermint leaves.

-

In the morning, Yuffie decides to take a walk. It's something to clear her head, because her head was by now a filthy thing, and besides - Axel is still asleep, and all the more chance to avoid the massive hangover he undoubtedly has.

She really doesn't know why she's still hanging around. She really doesn't know, in fact, why she started hanging around to begin with. Maybe it was the sense of thrill, of adventure, that she craved; maybe she just thought he was attractive. Maybe she thought he would keep his promises. Maybe she thought she could change him.

-

For the first time in a long time, she feels slightly refreshed, and decides she's going to sit Axel down while he's nice and sober and talk with him; if she needs a frying pan to do it then so be it. Nevertheless, she's established one fact: she's not happy. She needs to make him keep his promises, maybe send him to rehab, or something, because she's still attracted to him like a moth to a flame in almost the literal sense, and she wants to give this another chance.

Smiling at this new resolve, she almost skips up the steps to her apartment door.

-

Yuffie realizes something is wrong the moment she steps through the threshold. Axel isn't passed out on the couch, and she can't hear him banging through the medicine cupboards as per the norm during a hangover. In fact, she thinks, as she's beginning to become the slightest bit frantic, she can't find him _anywhere_.

There aren't many places to be in an apartment as spatially-challenged as theirs.

Her mind is racing a million miles a minute as she both pulls on her coat and picks up her phone at once: _what if he's hurt, what if he's lost, no, what if he left .. ? Axel never leaves the apartment this early, it's only, like, 8!_

She dials Roxas' number first, because if anyone knew where Axel was then it was Roxas, but slams the phone down in frustration as no one answers. She tries Kairi next, because Kairi's the closest thing to a real friend she ever had, but the answering machine picks up on her number too and Yuffie gives up and rushes out the door.

Kairi's house is only a block down, if she runs she can make it in time before Kairi's shift begins at the café.

-

"Kai! Kairi! Are you home?"

Yuffie pounds on the door before noticing a light coming from the second floor, and she knows enough about Kairi's electrical bill that she wouldn't leave on a light if she wasn't home. "Kairi! I know you're in there!"

She also knows where the spare key is, and in her haste drops it three times before getting firm grip and pushing the door open.

There are a million reasons Kairi wouldn't answer the door, right? She's probably in the bathroom. Yuffie dismisses these thoughts as she runs through Kairi's (much larger) house, calling her name every so often. Finally, as she walks quickly through the second floor hallway, she hears a quiet "oh my gawd" coming from the bedroom, and much shuffling ensues.

Yuffie hesitantly pushes the door open, and no amount of strength could stop her knees from collapsing at the sight the open door beheld.

"YUFFIE! I swear, it's not what it looks like, he was drunk and couldn't find his way home, so I offered him the night here --"

She's seen enough to realize what's going on. Her still-passed-out husband and her friend are intertwined so intricately around each other, it'd be rather hard not to.

Her mind halted, erased itself. If she could feel anything, it would be numbness.

She shakily stands back up, calmly ignoring her former friend's cries and her sleeping husband's hungover snores, and walks right back out the front door and down the street, the opposite way from her home.

The string broke. The magic spell is gone, and she is enchanted no more.

She's debating a wedding on the beach, next time.

-

_will it matter after I'm gone?  
because you never learned a god damned thing._

-

"Axel! There you are!"

He waves two fingers a bit from his position in the tree, beckoning her to come closer. Her smile becomes full-blown, and she happily sits down beside him. "Listen, I'm sorry for kicking you, okay? I just can't believe you'd do something so _stupid_ --"

"Hey, baby, shut up. It's alright, I can take a little kick to the nuts. Now, forgive _me_?"

"Only if you promise me."

"Promise what, now?"

"Promise me you'll never do it again."

Axel shrugs. "Is that all? Okay, I promise.

"One more thing," she says, sitting down against the trunk of the tree. He gestures for her to continue, and she says, softly, like the fragile words will break if she says them with too much force, "_Promise_ me you'll be with me forever."

He looks startled for a split-second, then smiles. Not a sneer, not a smirk, not a leer or a grin, but a _smile_.

"Of course, Yuffie. I promise."

-

_I hate the ending, myself, _

_but it started with an alright scene. _

* * *

**xx**_fin_

okay, el finally. DONE xD

yeah, this only took me forever. and i was trying to sound all wise in the beginning, did it work:3

aha, i love doomed romances. esp those that start in media res. dunno, i hope it didn't sound like it was a bunch of different parts stuck together. tell me if you thought it flowed well, or not, okay? please?

oh, and i just thought of something .. wasn't my last ficlet about infidelity, too? what IS it with me & adultery? lol. oo;

dedicated to three of the most awesome people i know - seriously, you guys like, RADIATE and OOZE pure sexiness and goodness.

KAILEY: my bestest best ffnet friend, and one of my best friends period. _everything_ you've said to me inspired me to finally get OFF my lazy ass and break through that ever-annoying writer's block. you're _so_ sweet, and _so_ funny, and you also gave me the idea to use axelyuffie! thank you.

FELIA: hey girl, guess what fandom this is in. um, kh for the WIN! xD if it wasn't for your incredible words, i would have given up on kh a long time ago. you helped me to keep trying. and oh, oh! it's _long, _too! o: i am still trying to obtain the skill of long-ness. or you know, something. (;

SHELBY: omg. i told you, mah shelby, i told you i'd write this. i mean, seriously: could you have _picked_ a better prompt word for me? um, noo, is the answer. it was the perfect word to inspire me, and i'm totally grateful for that. plus, hey: you deserve a gazillion ficlets from me, because they will never, _ever _match the bundle of coolness that is you. 8D

title and lyrics scattered throughout belong to my chemical romance. characters belong to dizzy-knee and square. 'magic' prompt word belongs to shelby.

reviews are pretty hot.

.. i wish i had a beta (:


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